


Race can't Drive

by seekingmindatwrk



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, Dont ask me why he works in customer service, M/M, Modern Era, Spot works at starbucks, a drive through coffee shop au, but i have a little dignity, i thought of this at midnight, i was originally gonna make it a mcdonalds drive through, im sorry, its canon, race cant drive good, so dont expect much, so this is like a coffee shop au but like, you cant tell me its not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 06:42:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18585877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingmindatwrk/pseuds/seekingmindatwrk
Summary: All his friends knew that he couldn't drive well at all. He got in 3 car accidents within his first year of having his license. So, when Race starts going through the Starbucks Drive through, they have some questions.





	Race can't Drive

Racetrack Higgins was not a good driver. That was a known fact in his friend group. It’s kind of an inside joke between them. So when Race starts going through the Starbucks drive-through on the regular, it’s kind of a big deal.

It all started one day when Race was in a big rush to get to an audition, he had woken up late and need to get a coffee quickly so he didn’t fall asleep while he was performing. Needless to say, he didn’t have time to go inside.

He pulled up in the moderately short drive-through line, telling the employee his order at the speaker, and impatiently tapping his finger on his wheel while waiting to pull up to the window. He used the time he was waiting to go over his routine in his head.

It took him a minute to realize when the car in front of him pulled away. He put his car in gear and drove up to the window.

“Your total is $4.45,” the man said looking at the computer screen. He was short, at least from what race could tell. He had a faded red t-shirt with his sleeves rolled up on under his green apron, making him look very festive, even though It was the middle of July. His skin was a deep caramel tan color, with sun spots coating his cheeks and nose.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts and dug through his wallet to find the correct change. He handed his money to the boy, and their hands briefly touching. Race could tell from the short exchange the he had rough hands.

He looked at the boys apron, seeing that his name tag read Sean.

Sean. He didn’t seem like a Sean. That name just didn’t fit.

He noticed he was staring when he met Sean's eyes. 

“Here’s your white chocolate mocha, sir. Have a nice day,” Sean said, handing race his cup out of the window.

Race grabbed his drink and smiled at Sean, “you too!” He replied.

He wasn’t sure if he really needed the coffee anymore, the exchange with Sean making him feel more awake than the caffeine ever could.

 

This became a normal routine for Race. He went inside the shop once or twice, but soon realized that Sean only worked the drive through window. Race had to deal with his hate for driving to be able to see the pretty boy, and in Races opinion, it’s worth it. He learned that Sean works Monday through Friday (as well as the occasional Saturday) and he is usually there from about 7-12, but he wasn’t quite sure the exact hours.

Every time he tried a new drink, so far his favorite was the Iced Green tea Lemonade. Sean seemed to notice this and would occasionally recommend some of his favorite drinks.

 

“You know,” Race said, looking up from his wallet as he fetched his money, “I don’t think the name Sean fits you.”

“Oh ya?” Sean chuckled, grabbing the money from Races hand, “Do tell, what do you want to call me?” He asked, meeting Races eyes.

He leaned against the car door, and smiled at him, “I’m thinking Spot, cause you got those sun spots on your face.”

He saw Sean hide a full blown laugh, “That’s kinda funny, Race, because that’s actually a nickname that my friends call me,” he said, handing him his tea.

Race completely ignored his tea, “Are you serious? Holy heck dude! I’m a psychic! Is it okay if I call you Spot?”

“Sure thing race,” he said, pushing the tea further out the window, “Now take your tea and get outta here, I have other customers to deal with.”

“Have a good day, Spot,” Race laughed, emphasizing Spot, before he rolled up his window and drove away.

 

Race doesn’t like anyone else to drive his car. So when Jack needs a ride to the store, and everyone else is busy, he begrudgingly asked Race for a ride.

“Uhhh are you sure you want to ride with me? If you die, don’t blame me, you knew what you were getting yourself into.”

“Race, you’re literally my last choice here, please can you just give me a ride, dude?”

“Sure thing, but we have to stop by Starbucks first.”

Race pulled up and ordered himself a new kind of tea, and leaned over to ask Jack what he wanted and ordered him a coffee as well.

When he got to the window he watched as Spot prepared their drinks through the window. He analyzed his every movements, watching as he glided from one machine to the next.

Race snapped back to reality when Jack hit his arm. 

“Whatcha starin’ at, loverboy?” Jack asked.

“Nothin, I’m just thinking.”

“Oh, ho ho, that’s rare!” Jack laughed, hitting Races arm again.

The window opened, and Spots voice filled Races ears, “Your total is $7.70,” he looked at Race, smiling, but Race watched his smile falter as he met eyes with Jack in the passenger seat.

“Oh! Spot, this is Jack, Jack this is Spot,” he introduced them, gesturing from one to the other.

“Hi,” Jack smiled, his eyes darting between the two.

“Hey,” Race got Jack attention, “Can you hand me my wallet, it’s by your feet,”

Once Race paid for their Drinks, the window shut and Jack shifted in his seat to face him better, “Soooo, you already got a nickname for him huh?”

“Can we not talk about this here?” Race asked, looking down at his hands as he picked at his nail beds.

“I think he thought I was your boyfriend.” Jack stated, sitting forward in his seat once again.

“What.” Race said, more of a statement than a question.

“Ya, you should probably tell him i’m not, Racer” Jack chuckled a little.

Race stayed silent until Spot came back with their drinks, when his demeanor completely changed. Suddenly he was smiling like a child.

As he grabbed the drinks from Spots hands, Race started talking again, “I had to drive Jack to the store today to get some ingredients,” he paused to look at Spot “He’s making his boyfriend a surprise dinner for their anniversary, and no one else could give him a ride, so he kinda had to ask me, don’t tell anyone, but I’m not that good of a driver.”

Spot laughed.

“I wasn’t really planning on getting out of the house today, so you can thank Jack for being able to see you favorite customer.”

“Get outta here, Race,” Spot said, smiling.

 

The next day, when Race was getting his money out, Spot spoke up, “So yesterday, you said you're not a good driver.”

Race chuckled, “Not good is an understatement, I would prefer to say, horrendous.”

Spot smiled, “So if you're such a horrendous driver, why do you go through the drive through instead of just going inside?”

“Well first of all, parking is very hard. Second of all, I think the drive through attendant is very cute, and that it's worth the trouble of going through the drive through just to see him smile.”

Race noticed Spot hide a smile before just nodding in agreement, “here's your coffee Racer, have a good day,” Spot winked.

Race felt his face flush bright red before grabbing his coffee and driving away.

When he got to his dorm, he noticed some extra writing on his cup.

 

It was Spots number.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry the ending was kinda lame. i'm not a good writer, rip in peace. also im sorry the grammar is bad, im just like that.


End file.
